


Jolie laide

by DapperSkull



Series: Hogwarts AU [1]
Category: Death Note (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Anal Sex, Body Image, M/M, Mirror Sex, Overstimulation, Rimming, Self-Esteem Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-29
Updated: 2018-01-29
Packaged: 2019-03-10 21:44:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13510377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DapperSkull/pseuds/DapperSkull
Summary: Jolie laide: the French expression used to describe someone who is unconventionally beautiful.





	Jolie laide

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I lifted that translation/definition from [Wikipedia right here](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jolie_laide) so any French speakers feel free to yell at me if I'm wrong.

He had never cared about his appearance before. Why bother putting stock in something that would never stand the test of time? It was a waste of effort, as much as making a bed was, bound to rumple and ruin during the tosses and turns of the night.

(Mr. Wammy didn't tolerate such excuses in his childhood, but now that L was a young adult, he got away with more, and Wammy wasn’t around to look after him at Hogwarts.)

 

(L hardly slept anyway.)

 

He put more effort into learning and expanding his understanding of the world. Of course, knowledge was not something guaranteed to last either. In the Wizarding World, there were spells that could strip him of his memories entirely. And he would hardly ever know the difference.

That was something truly frightening.

But he could put more trust in his mind than he could in beauty. There was almost always an opportunity to relearn things forgotten. But nobody had a handle on the effects of aging. Makeup, Polyjuice Potions, and Transfiguration could only go so far. Remedies and exchanged tips passed by word of mouth were as prevalent as they were due to fear. It was pointless trying to run from the inevitable.

Looks got away from him due to how low they fell onto his scale of priorities. His hair was an appalling mess of tangles, shirts constantly in wrinkled states with ties haphazardly done around his neck, and those were just issues about grooming alone. It did not account for his visage, but if he couldn't be conventionally handsome then why tidy himself?

No amount of scoldings from Professors moved him enough to care for a change. He was perfectly content with how he existed, so it wasn’t that he was self-deprecating. It was just a fact that he didn’t hold the same appeal as others did.

Not everyone could be Light Yagami, as pretty as he was smart.

The boy and his sister were both Gryffindor and had transferred into Hogwarts during L’s fifth year. He was the first person who ever posed a challenge to him. Easily, effortlessly, Light was his match in almost every subject, in nearly every way.

_Nearly._

L lacked the social grace and attractiveness that he did to be called his true equal.

To the annoyance of anyone that shared their classes, in the beginning, they got along as well as any Gryffindor and Slytherin. Worse than that, friction always sparked up faster between them than it did in their classmates.

And those sparks flared into flames somewhere along the seventh year. They had been paired up to Duel each other in Defense class, and it was one of those rare occasions where Light managed to disarm him. After class, the boy had shoved him against a wall, and L let him have his victory. Only because his legs were too stunned into weakness at the touch of Light’s lips.

He couldn’t have protested even if he wanted to.

He was aware of the fact that Light could do much better than him where looks were concerned. He had heard it phrased much worse. Girls happened to be especially crueler in their snide remarks, which didn’t faze him as much as it did Light.

“I shouldn’t be surprised.” Light complained to him with a snort, as they studied together on the floor between the library shelves,“People are always going to think inside their little boxes, and anything that differs is somehow wrong? What does the Gryffindor and Slytherin feud have to do with me? That’s an _English_ spat.”

Books were stacked into piles at their sides in no particular order; finished, partially finished, unread.  

“Multinational actually.” L said around his thumb, eyes never leaving the pages of a text he was in the middle of reading.  

“What?”

“Hogwarts is located in Scotland. It houses Scottish students but does not exclude the English, Irish, and transfer students such as yourself. That would make it a multinational spat depending on the background of each student sorted into those two particular houses.”

“I don’t care.”

“Everyone should care about dispelling common misconceptions, Light.”

“You’re just avoiding the subject right now.”

“Because the subject at hand was never something that mattered to me.”  L informed with amusement before elaborating for him, “They don’t find our relationship controversial due to our house alignments alone.” _Silly boy_.

“What do you mean?”

 

_Does he not know?_

 

“We don’t appear as though we belong with one another.”

And maybe they didn’t. L didn’t like the phrase 'Not looking a gift horse in the mouth,' but sometimes he could appreciate the proverb. Enjoyable companionship in the form of a brilliant, beautiful boy had found him despite him not having sought it out.

But Light went utterly silent, so silent that L needed to look up from his book to see the intense glare fixed on him. It was a different sort of stare than when they had only been rivals. L hadn’t wanted him to stop staring at him then like he suddenly did now. He was at a loss as to why he was being looked at in such a way, and could only owlishly blink back. Social interaction was often very frustrating for this exact reason. It was difficult to grasp, and the sudden swelling ache in his chest only made it much more difficult to place his error. He knew he had said something wrong.

He remained still even when Light got into his personal space, grasping him by the front of his messy robes. His gaze was fire and passion, and oh so Gryffindor-esque.

“Is that what you think?” His fists tightened on his clothing, “Is that how you feel?”

“I can't say.” L truthfully admitted, “I haven't given it as much thought as others.”

“I can't believe you!”

“Calm down, Light. This is a bit of an overreaction.”

“Is it?” Light stood up, pinning him to the bookshelf,“Anytime I go anywhere, I have to hear unsolicited input from the rest of the school concerning our relationship. My personal choices aren't up for debate. It isn't anybody's business but ours. And now I have to listen to you tell me that you don't disagree with them?”

 Light was being unreasonable. He was upset about something too subjective, something that held little value to L personally. Even if they were an odd pair, it just wasn't something he agonized over.

“You can't claim that their opinions are unsolicited,” L had to tilt his chin to peer up at him,“if you proceed to take them regardless. I don't understand. Does it really upset you so much?”

“Of course it does-”

“Gentlemen!” cut in the shrill voice of Madam Pince, “Roughhousing is not tolerated within the walls of the library!  Put everything back as you found it and please kindly take your leave.”

Light’s grip loosened on his shirt. He let go of him, his hair doing an excellent job of hiding his expression, “It’s fine, I was just going. Sorry, Madam.” And he did leave, the room and the pile of books for L to clean up.

Light could be so childish.

A considerable amount of distance began to form between them after their argument, and L, for his part, did attempt to mend the situation. But his efforts weren’t well received. It turned out that Light didn’t find it a sufficient enough apology to be left the last of the Every Flavour Jelly Beans in the box, especially when the last one happened to be shoe polish.

It was challenging to apologize sincerely when he hadn’t done anything wrong. He couldn’t be expected to care about the things their classmates said when he’d already developed a substantial immunity to malicious comments. Perhaps Light was not used to being spoken about negatively, but L had put up with it for eight years for more than merely involving himself with a popular boy. He wasn’t to blame that Light was too easy to offend. He would just have to learn to develop a thicker layer of skin.

 

Given time the whole situation would be forgotten.

 

The distance between them did not close however, and a sinking feeling began to grow within him with each day that passed. He should have had the foresight to predict that one day Light would have to choose between his image and L. Not everyone could or wanted to be as apathetic as he was, and Light was someone who had a good standing in the eyes of others. Why would he risk that for a relationship?

He considered Light his match because he could keep up with him, he was well read, and he too was not afraid of delving into Muggle subjects. Light was just so refreshing where others were not.

In actuality, Light was not his match, he excelled in aspects where L came up short. He knew how to appropriately respond to the mood of the room, he knew how to be liked by others, he knew how to pretend. The fundamental difference between Light and himself was that Light actually cared. Watching him slowly pull away, L decided that this should be no different. It should have been easy to discount this relationship as meaningless too. Maintaining connections to everyone else was just that.

(He’d written Wammy, offhandedly mentioning his predicament. His caretaker didn’t offer any advice, only assuring that things would work themselves out.)

 (He had never said he was upset about it though.)

The trip to Hogsmeade was approaching. L usually did not like to manually travel to retrieve sweets, but he had no one to send off to get them on his behalf. So he went on those trips only to restock his supply, and usually Light would accompany him. He had a feeling that he would go alone this time. It was just fine. L always went alone prior to befriending him.

" _It doesn’t look like Light’s going to go with that creep this year.”_ He heard the hopeful prospects of others in one of the classes he shared with Light. Visibly, neither of them reacted. L at first because he was accustomed to it, Light because he was focused on the Potion’s assignment, ignoring him and the rest of the world.

 

" _Maybe now’s my chance_ -”

 

 _"Are you kidding? I’m going to ask him_.”

Hormones affected mood, which was why emotions were always tricky for adolescents to manage, their control over them still insufficiently developed. Even with this information, knowing this did not prepare him to feel it. It did not stop him from having to swallow hard on the piece of Sugar Quill he’d harshly bitten off, knees as weak as the first time he’d been kissed. He couldn’t look at the boy beside him, the sugar from his treat heavier now, like thick cement running down his throat. When did he ever let Light have this much power over him?

That very same night, he had stumbled upon an empty classroom during one of his restless midnight walks. He’d ventured inside, to keep hidden from the night watch of the school. The room was as dusty and aged as the rest of the castle, so the shiny reflective surface of a clean mirror quickly caught his eye. He didn’t want to look at the glass. He didn’t want to go looking for the qualities people saw within him which made him deserving of such loathing for having taken a pretty boy’s attention. It was absurd.

(L could see why though at times. That Light was trading his reputation for someone who couldn’t and didn’t want to learn all of those social intricacies he had bothered to master.)

Inspecting the metallic frame instead, his eyes trailed over the inscription at the top. It read as complete gibberish, but it didn’t take him long to figure out that whatever was written was actually backward.

 " _I show not your face but your heart's desire."_

His eyes slowly strayed to the surface of the glass. He took a step closer, out of curiosity more than anything.

He sucked in a startled breath then exhaled shakily, touching the cold surface of the glass.

 

Home.

 

He desired to go home.

Stuck seemingly on the other side of the glass was Mr. Wammy gazing at him with acceptance, warmth, and all the other things L pretended didn’t matter to him at Hogwarts nor received.

 

Avoiding his reflection had become a subconscious habit of his when the sun had risen, and he could no longer hide from people whom he cohabited the school with. After his encounter with the Erised mirror, he could no longer look at himself, displeased with what he was shown. These were issues that he’d never had to face until now.

Evidently, he did care.

He had just finished dressing after a shower when he heard the door to the bathrooms shut loudly enough to make him pause. Not jump, but slowly turn his head to the direction where Light had entered and was muttering a quick Anti-Alohomora Charm to seal the entrance shut.

“I think I’m ready to talk with you.” The boy announced when he’d finished locking the door.

“As I’ve just stepped out of the shower? How thoughtful of you.”

“We can talk this way privately without anyone overhearing.” Light announced, raising a brow, “Or would you rather we not talk?”

“The last time I answered one of your questions with honesty you stopped speaking with me completely. So I'm not entirely certain how you'd like me to answer that...” L pointed out, using his towel to dry his face but not his wet, dripping hair.

Light rolled his eyes and crossed the room, “I didn’t want to say something in the heat of anger. That’s why I needed some time alone.”

L watched him move closer, ignoring the impulse to step back. Time gave a chance to edit, to cut out the truth and hide one’s true colors. If Light said something while impassioned, he was 99% sure it would have been more honest than anything he was going to tell him now. Gently, the cloth was pulled out of L’s reluctant-to-let-go grasp, and a hand pushed him down by the shoulder, directing him to sit on the rim of the empty bathtub.

“You’re dripping all over your clothes.” Light admonished, “Here, let me help.”

He considered protesting but fell silent once fingers began brushing his hair through the fabric of the towel. Though he thought himself touch repulsed, and Light was no exception to that, he found that he could keep still under his palms without feeling much aversion.

 “I want to be a good person.” Light began as he worked on drying his hair, “The entire reason I’m planning on becoming an Auror is built on that foundation. I want to help people, but there’s always going to be a part of me that hates interacting with others. Their transparency frustrates me because it gets to a point where the predictability of it all makes me feel like I’m living the same day on repeat and I already know what’s going to happen. It’s wrong to reduce a person’s worth to whether or not they’re entertaining to me personally, I realize that. So, I make an effort to be as respectful as possible and to treat others decently, even if I just feel so removed from them.”

“As fascinating as it is, I didn't ask about your moral code, Light.” L drawled, interrupting to pick that point apart, “Even if I had, I fail to see where having a dislike for structure and social interaction makes for a bad person rather than it simply being a personal preference.”

He found his reasoning… cute. It was almost an extension of ‘If I’m not nice 100% of the time then I must be a bad person.’

“Shut. Up.” Light silenced him, “Let me finish, jackass.”

L listened quietly this time, face unreadable.

“With you, I don’t… feel trapped in that cycle. Nothing feels forced. Ever since I met you, I’ve been waking up to a new day every day. It sounds cheesy, but it’s true. That’s why, I won't lie, what you said pissed me off. Because your opinion lined up in agreement with everyone else’s and it felt like I was standing alone all over again.

“Can you at least tell me why you don’t think we belong together?” Light finished, pulling the towel off of him, leaving his ears cold. He gripped L by the shoulders so that he could not look away, gazing intently into his eyes.

Studying him in return, L had to backtrack on his previous judgment of time possessing the power to suck passion from Light’s convictions and better hide his true intentions. He was all passion that L wished he could direct his vision to the ground. He imagined that staring at the sun wouldn’t burn him as badly.

“I said that I never gave it much thought, Light.” He corrected him, “But this isn’t a matter of what I think. It’s only the truth. I know I'm not, under most standards, considered attractive or socially adept.” _Beautiful things, even beautiful things with tempers, did not go along with the undesirables._

Light’s lips pinched together in irritation, “That’s why you think we’re incompatible? Do you think that I’m that shallow--No.”

He had gotten it all wrong.

Altogether, the ire drained from the boy’s eyes as he registered that this might not have been a problem with him, or even that L believed so low of him. This was a self-esteem issue. His boyfriend thought himself to be too _ugly._

“It’s not me is it? It’s _you._ You always seem so sure of yourself... I never thought you’d be the one to have insecurities.”  Light squeezed his shoulders, only slightly guilty that it had taken him too long to pick up on them.

“I don’t. I value myself rather highly.” L denied, but continued to say even more ridiculous things, “I’m only stating a fact, but it’s not something I lament in the slightest.”

Light didn’t believe him.

The palm he had on L’s shoulder slid upward and along the side of his neck to cup his cheek. He ducked his head press his lips to his, slow and apologetic since it hurt Light’s pride to give an apology aloud for something as stupid as this misunderstanding. He could say it this way though. With a kiss, he tried to patch the rift that had ripped between them and the tighter he pulled, the easier it was for him to feel the built-up tension stored in L’s body.

The moment their lips parted, Light swore he heard a near inaudible whisper under gasps for air, a small plea, _‘Don't leave me.’_ So he pretended to have not heard it, assuming he wasn't meant to. He allowed L that courtesy.

“It's so convenient how we have a perfectly good mirror right here…” He muttered distractedly, opening up the buttons of L’s shirt one at a time, exposing his seemingly frail frame inch by inch. He looked more or less ready to wither away, but Light knew better about the strength underlying him. Without fail, any time L’s body was exposed to him, Light was always struck with the mean compulsion to jam his fingers into the places where his bones protruded to form hard ridges.To get this unshakable boy to _cry out_ for him.

L shifted, his position on the edge of the tub growing discomforting to his tailbone. He felt cold when his shirt fell open to the air, exposing his freshly bathed skin. Thankfully he retained half the mind to wonder, “Whatever for?”

Discarding his own shirt along with L’s, Light leaned in to nose beneath his ear, whispering the answer to him, “It's not every day I get to show you how wrong you are.”

Hitched up in a movement he just wasn't prepared for, L latched onto the other boy as though afraid to fall when the ground had been removed from beneath his feet. He felt Light’s body shake beneath his hands, suppressing laughter.

“It’s not every day I get you to do that either.”

L shot him a dirty look.

Light snorted, maneuvering him over to one of the porcelain sinks where a rectangular mirror hung just above it. L caught his intention, it almost made him nervous.

“Light, this is entirely unnecessary. You don’t have to do this.”

“I know. I _want_ to do this,” Light set him down, ridding L of his pants with one tug at his belt loop, “but if you don't, say the word. We'll stop right here.”

Silence followed: an answer, an admission, it was damning. Light took it as permission and guided L forward, bending him over the cold sink where he had to grip onto the edges to steady himself.

“That's what I thought…” an unseen smirk colored Light’s voice, his entitled hand trailing its way down L’s knobby spine. A light shiver shuddered through him, and he looked anywhere but at the mirror.

“You’re acting under the false assumption that I have body image issues.” He muttered, not objecting to the prospect of being fucked, but to the idea that he was uncomfortable with his own body. The hand paused its descent down L’s back, sliding over to give his hip a little squeeze.

“Why won’t you look at yourself then?” Light challenged, sinking _down_ , leaving a trail of sweet kisses along his back as he went. He so rarely got onto his knees for him, but the act was far from subservient. Light kissed like he _owned_. He bit into the curve of his backside, sinking his teeth into his skin, probably leaving a mark.

“Ngh!” L grunted, narrowing his eyes warningly, “Light...”

Only, his eyes widened once more once he was spread, a warm tongue tracing along the flesh of his entrance. Playing an entirely different tune then, a gasp tore from his throat. He pressed back against him, but Light immediately gripped his hips to keep him still. His lips sealed over his hole, sucking fervidly, sending a spasm jerking through L’s body.

L’s fingers left the sink’s edge so that he could worry his thumb between his teeth, but that did nothing to hide the noises that built up in his chest. Light must have found his hushed groans amusing, because he chuckled wickedly, the vibration from his laugh tingling up the base of his spine. L bit harder on his thumb, and harder still when Light’s fingers began nudging their way inside of him.  

The quick jabs of those digits were maddening, Light was more focused with the act of fucking him loose so that any pleasure L received was only incidental. But it wasn’t the rough stab of his fingers that had him gnawing on his thumb, it was the gentle probing of his tongue. Softly, his tongue lapped at L’s inner walls, prying him _open_ and _wet_ and _god it just wasn't fair._ He was shaking as Light coaxed his body to unfurl for him.

Echoing off of the bathroom walls was the slick sound of his mouth, and the strangled moan L gave around his thumb. It was over too soon. L was bracing most of his weight on the faucet by the time Light released his hold on him and stood back up.

“You’re truly the embodiment of evil…” L  informed him, trying to stand once more. But Light pressed him back down with an eyeroll he could only hear.

“No offense, but you’re not exactly an angel yourself.”

Metallic jingling of a belt being undone had heat pooling low in L’s groin, his ears tinged rosy with embarrassment.

Light’s body covered his, kissing at his neck. This way, L could barely manage a squirm as his cock first breached him. He forced himself to stay relaxed, knowing it would be easier if he wasn’t tensed. Light pressed in unyieldingly until he bottomed out completely, unable to go any further. L bowed his head, back to white knuckling the sink, filled so completely that coherence and complex thought stuttered to a halt.

His toes curled.

But that was all and Light stayed in place, pressed up teasingly at his prostate. It was still tight. He could feel even the smallest motions from Light who groaned deeply when L’s body throbbed around the intrusion. The pause gave them both a moment to adjust.

“Move _._ ” L demanded stiffly, shifting, twisting beneath him with impatient arousal when the stillness grew unbearable and the other boy did not immediately take him hard, like his merciless fingers had. He was surely leaking pre-come against the side of the sink.

Shaking his head, nose skimming across the skin of L’s neck, Light rested his chin on his shoulder, murmuring softly, “The whole purpose of this is defeated if you won’t watch yourself. I’m not moving until you do.”

The embodiment of evil.

“I can help you if you want.” Light offered, taking his chin in his hand, but L yanked his face away.

“T-This is ridiculous…” L’s voice wavered despite not wanting to betray just how much he wanted, _needed_. Rumbling low in his chest was a snarl, his teeth grinding together.

Light rolled his hips behind him, knocking the air out of L’s lungs.

“What’s the problem then, L?” He challenged at the shell of his ear, “If it’s so ridiculous you shouldn’t have a problem doing it…”

His eyes reluctantly lifted to meet his reflection’s.

Agonizingly slow, Light began to draw out in a long drag, moaning at the hot slide. His hands enclosed around L’s wrists, two manacles restricting movement of his arms. L smothered a distressed cry from the pull that left him so achingly empty. There in the mirror, he watched that perfect boy of his, donning his devilish smile, and underneath him his own ghoulish face; a sickly pallor, ghastly discoloration beneath his eyes, and sunken cheekbones.

_He couldn’t, couldn’t watch, couldn’t--_

His muscles clenched, twitching around the head of Light’s cock, body trying to take him back in. Arching his spine, he pushed himself back to follow to the withdrawal of Light’s hips.

 _‘Please,’_ L fingers flexed, scratching against the sink, fighting his closing eyelids _, ‘Please, god.’_

 Light slammed his hips all the way back in, squeezing L’s wrists when his arms jerked in shock. He didn’t stop this time, driving in at a consistently sharp pace. There was no teasing, not anymore.

 “Please, I-” L broke, unable to stand the sight of his cheeks burning pink, “I-I don’t need to watch myself.”

 He felt his own age around him, as emotionally driven as the rest of the student body for once. Light had made him care, made him think about things he normally wouldn’t, made L love him so dearly that his opinion mattered to him.  And now he couldn’t take it back.

 But when he heard the little moan exhaled into his shoulder by his stupidly pretty boy, he didn’t want to take it back.  

“For once, I want you to see just how hard it is for me,” Light whispered into the side of his neck, "every time I have to watch you sucking on sugar quills in class or giving me that smug look of yours.”

“Smug? I believe you have me confused with you.” L mumbled back dazedly.

 Just for that, Light rammed back in roughly, striking _that_ spot again, and again. His nails sunk into L’s wrists, growls grunted lowly at his ear.

“Light.” L’s lips parted, moaning brokenly at the mirror, squirming from soreness aching in his abdomen after being hunched over the sink for so long, “ _Light!_ ”

Demanding fingers slid around L, wrapping around his cock. Light’s hand stroked him lazily, a contrast to the piercing piston of his hips. His touch was so _good_ , warm, addictive. L’s breath hitched, needing more, it wasn’t enough. His newly freed hand moved to grasp Light’s wrist, trying to get his fist moving faster.

“You like that? ” Light chuckled, nipping at his earlobe, “Do you want more?”

He allowed L to control the speed of his hand for a moment before going back to the pace he desired, making the man beneath him bite back and swallow an answering whimper.

“Greedy.” He playfully admonished, his breathing heavy, fanning hotly over the L’s flesh, “But that’s exactly how it is for me too-” He punctuated his statement by grinding into him so cruelly, L’s legs trembled “-nothing about you will ever be enough for me.  Look. Look at how _lovely_ you look.”

He _was_ looking. But not at himself. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from Light’s darkened eyes in the mirror, looking at _him_ with desire, looking at L like he _wanted_ him. His hand fumbled, trying to move Light’s wrist again but the boy denied him, pressing his thumbnail at the slit of L’s cock.

Freezing completely, L’s body seized up in shock. A smarting sting laced with pleasure welled up low, tightening in the pit of his stomach. He gave a soundless cry, pushed toward the edge, leaking over his and Light’s fingers. But Light did not stop, only hissing in satisfaction at the way L tightened around him as he took what was his. He continued pumping his fist around L’s now flaccid member, his slick hand a sweetly searing act of sadism.

L’s eyes misted over, unable to get enough air in his lungs, each thrust inside of him leaving a pleasing pain that soothed his ache of need.

Finally, with a last jerk of his hips Light came, spilling into him. L chewed on his lip, shuddering at the warmth that filled him. It was filthy.  

It seemed as though Light was content to stay there like that for a few moments, mouthing kisses into the crook of his neck, but the position was quickly becoming too painful for L. Waiting until after he caught his breath, L nudged Light softly with a shoulder.

Light’s lips left his skin, pulling back in order to allow L the freedom to move. Along his stomach, L’s skin had been rubbed raw. He placed a hand over it, examining himself in the mirror. Additional love bites marred his skin red.

“Even if I did have an issue with the way I look,” L turned his back to the mirror, sitting along the edge of the sink, “why do you think the fact that _you_ find me physically appealing enough to sleep with would mend that issue?” That only spoke to _Light’s_ self esteem.

Light gave him a warning look.

“Don’t start with me, L.”


End file.
